My world changed the day he was born. I remember looking down at his small form in my arms and struggling to comprehend the new life I held. The world seemed so bright with his peaceful face looking toward mine. While our surroundings were chaotic, I did not even realize their presence. He was all I knew. He had ceased to cry for some time, and it looked as if he was trying to make sense of his new surroundings. I am sure they must have seemed so foreign and unwelcoming to him. I looked at his small face as he yawned and slowly drifted off to sleep. I wondered what his young mind thought of sleep. I never looked away from his face that night. I couldnt. In fact, for several nights I was unable to find sleep. I wanted to make certain everything was not a dream, that he was truly in my life. My husband failed to sleep for more than short spans of time. He felt quite the same as me, possibly even more strongly. As my little boy grew, I thanked God for all the blessings he bestowed upon my husband and me. My son never brought me troubles through his personality or actions. He was, as many of the other women in town observed, a wonderful child. I never had to beg him to obey my requests. More often than not, he would find ways to help me around the house. His father always welcomed our sons assistance. Many people did not believe the stories about my son, but they had only to spend a short amount of time with him to see he was the amazing child everyone described. He was so precious and so sweet. His eyes communicated a love more powerful than any I had ever experienced and a strength I could not fathom. Sometimes, I worried for him. He felt the sorrows of this world too deeply. The death of a neighbors family member, a crying child, or even a wounded animal would bring my son to tears. Yet when other children would say something hurtful, my little boy just looked at them and smiled his serene smile. His selflessness astounded me. Those days were wonderful, when he was young and always within my care. He was my son, and I would always be able to shelter him and protect him from the dangers of the world. I, like all mothers, fooled myself into believing I could shelter him from everything for all time.

Seeing my son now, I wish I could return to those days. I couldnt protect him. Instead, I must watch him suffer. I dont understand. Why? What has he done to deserve this? Hes always been so good and kind. How can they stand by and laugh as my baby boy hangs between those two men, like some common criminal. Did they need to beat him so terribly? Theres so much blood. He never even tried to defend himself! Hes crying. Please, someone let me hold him I want to end his pain. My son, do not speak! You are suffering enough. Just breathe. My son, my son, your life should have given you more than those thorns embedded in your head. If only they would just allow me to give you some water and offer you words of comfort. I dont understand how they can stand by you and watch as you die. How can they laugh as I watch my baby die? God, dear God, how can this be happening? I was told by an angel he was special, that he was your son. Why, then, is he dying a criminals death? I trusted you with his birth and his life. I believed you when you said he would save us. How can he save the world if he is condemned to die nailed to this tree? He should be bathed in glory, not blood. How can you not save him? You are Lord of all creation, with a legion of angels at your command. Can you not spare even one for your child? I am only human, I know, but I dont understand what you are doing. I want to trust you in this, but my son is dying.

As I write this, the song "Mary Did You Know?" is playing. I wonder what it must have been like for Mary. She was so young when she learned she would carry a child. Not only was she to have a child, he was to be God's own son. I'm eighteen, and the thought of being faced with such news sends mixed emotions. She probably felt frightened by the knowledge, felt anxious as she awaited her child's birth, and felt joy upon seeing the little boy in her arms at last. Some people look at Mary as being someone extraordinary. She was, considering she was chosen by God to give birth to the Savior of all mankind, but she was also a human girl. She had emotions.

Christmas celebrates Christs birth, but it is also a time when I remember why He was born. With that thought in mind, I wanted to write a little something that acknowledged both His birth and crucifixion. I know its not necessarily original, but it is mine, and I think that counts for something. This is just a reflection on what it might have been like for Mary, who raised and loved Jesus as her son, to see his death. Also, the last four paragraphs are intended to be slightly chaotic in style. I dont think my thoughts would have been rational at that time. Again, its all assumption on my part, but it makes me appreciate Christmas more.

This is not meant to be morbid. It is just meant to remind us of Gods amazing ability to use situations we dont understand for our own good and His glory. We just have to trust His timing and His decisions. He is God and we are not.

Ah reading this made my cry and i normally don;t read..you portrayed Mary very well..full of emotion and every sweet detail brought this to life. Reading this made me think Jesus as my son and seeing Him suffer is painful..for such a good man...it pierces my heart and makes me thankful for what God had did in offering this Lamb to save us...I'm still in tears right now...thanks for writing this!!! Lord bless you and more power to our God!

It is very interesting and very believable, thank you for sharing it. It is the first time I have read somehting like this, from her point of view.

Something strange came to my mind: This (I mean God's story) is in fact a fantastic one. It would be the best-seller ever, it would make greatest films and series... only if it weren't true. People love fantastic stories, especially these unclear and mysterious things, with lots of layers and interpretations, but as soon as they feel they are forced to believe it is true, they are not interested anymore.

God's story is full of love, but it is hidden. Not that much that it couldn't be found, if searched for. Such a nice story. There are stories I would really be worried if they were true, like sci-fi etc., but this one is harmless in the final.

Thank you for taking the time to write so much. God's story is fantastic. Sometimes, I fall prey to just thinking of it as a story, when it is truth. I am constantly amazed to remember that the people I read about in the Bible were real, living, breathing people like me. Whenever I am hit with that thought, I feel so overwhelmed by the love and thought God gave us through Christ. It makes me glad we have a loving Creator, who chose to use everyday humans to carry out His will.